


Anoxia

by Rei_Rei (anti60ne)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-26 02:28:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/960511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anti60ne/pseuds/Rei_Rei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>anoxia (n.) - lack or absence of oxygen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anoxia

**pairing:** Suho/Tao (implied Tao/Kris)  
 **prompt:** blast from the past and/ **or stuck-up model**  
 **rating:** NC-17  
 **word count** **:** 2584  
 **title:** Anoxia  
 **summary:** anoxia (n.) - lack or absence of oxygen.  
A/N: again, thanks to Laura for beta-ing. ~~this was based on true events.~~

  


This wasn't supposed to happen, Suho thinks, regrets stomping on his chest, but he's too exhausted to notice. He slouches against the semi-hard cushion of the taxi seats, his thoughts swimming, muddling his already marred consciousness.

_I should have left when I still had the chance._

 

✡-✡-✡

Suho was somewhat reluctant to go to Chanyeol's birthday bash, despite the eager invitation and prodding by his dongsaeng that grew up with him.Though it was a Friday night, Suho had to make an appearance at obligatory drinks with some colleagues after work, and he was really considering not going to Luxy, the venue of Chanyeol's celebration. It was the end of the work week, he was stressed, tired, and just needed some legit "me" time when Chanyeol called, his phone vibrating in the pocket as he threw the keys on the coffee table in the unlit apartment. Unable to counter or disregard Chanyeol's peppering of whiny pleas, Suho persuaded himself to get changed into a white, sleek button-down shirt and black casual slacks that hung perfectly around his hips.

When he got to Luxy, it was already 11pm. Suho was instantly intimidated by the droves of ladies and gentlemen in their best attire, faces polished to unrealistic perfection. His tired eyes skittered across the queue wrapping around the block, and dismay was about to turn him around on his heels when Chanyeol called, again.

"Hyung, where are you?"

"I'm outside Luxy, but-"

"Come to the front of the line."

He hung up.

Suho groaned quietly and his feet dawdled toward the club entrance. He spotted Chanyeol, whose height made it difficult for him to blend in.

"Hyung! You made it!"

Chanyeol greeted Suho with a warm hug complemented by his signature pearly whites. Suho flashed a genuine smile, his fatigue immediately washed away. It was Chanyeol's 22nd birthday, the first year after turning legal that a guy actually began to feel himself grown into a real man, a person capable of making independent choices for his own life. For a moment, Suho was glad that he somehow made it here, even though he didn't know any of Chanyeol's friends, who were chattering amongst each other and tossing him curious glances.

Chanyeol introduced him to the group ("This is Kris, Baekhyun, Luhan, and Tao"), and they exchanged formalities and slight bows. When Suho's eyes flitted to a pair of dark orbs, suffocated by their unreadable gaze, he began to doubt what he was doing there. But his train of thought was skewed when Chanyeol pulled him forward by the arm, their entry cued by the bouncer.

_Your eyes were like black holes, sucking me in, crushing me, disintegrating me into a million little pieces._

Suho was not a fan of clubs. He attributed it to age and his dwindling physical capacity to tolerate the booming music and claustrophobic darkness, but he simply no longer found entertainment value in such venues. He was here for Chanyeol, and he made a mental note to leave after getting Chanyeol an obligatory birthday shot. Suho planned to be back outside flagging a taxi by midnight. It was a few minutes after 11PM. An hour should do, he thought.

Except Suho had underestimated Chanyeol's popularity and the scale of this party. He felt himself shrinking as he watched Chanyeol weave in and out of various cliques, receiving flirty cheek-kisses from girls and congratulatory pats on the back from guys, talking and laughing with a whisky coke in his hand. Suho was about to formulate a plan B when a hand plopped down on his shoulder. He turned around.

"Hey, Suho.. hyung, right?" A familiar-looking guy yelled into his ear, grinning with crescent eyes.

"Erm, yeah. Baekhyun, was it?" Suho strained to propel his voice above the music.

"Yep. Wanna go sit down? We have bottle service and I noticed you don't have a drink," Baekhyun eyed Suho's empty hand, then turned around and sauntered off somewhere, sparing Suho no time to even hesitate. Suho sighed and followed suit.

When they arrived at the table, located in a corner diagonal from the bar, Suho was met with more strangers save for Luhan, who recognized him and smiled, giving him a friendly chin-up. Suho felt a hand (likely Baekhyun's) on his back, gliding him toward the seats. He settled himself next to Luhan, relieved at the unoccupied space next to the only familiar face he knew of the bunch.

"Cranberry or orange juice?"

It took Suho a few seconds to realize what Luhan was referring to, a Ciroc bottle in his hand with the pourer pointing into an empty glass. Suho stammered out a "Cranberry" and watched Luhan pour the juice from a jug while shooting the liquor. He nudged the finished cocktail toward Suho, who gratefully picked it up and met Luhan's raised glass in a clink.

"So, how do you know Chanyeol?" Suho casually posed the question after taking a gulp, his tensed shoulders slumped backward into the leather couch as the alcohol lulled his nerves.

"From modeling. I think we met at a photoshoot?" Luhan cocked his head to the side, musing. This was new information to Suho.

"... Chanyeol models?"

Luhan laughed, possibly because Suho's expression comically ranged between disbelief and shock.

"Part-time, I think. A lot of us here are models, actually, some of them are runway."

Suho gave a quick glance around the table. Because of the unease that shielded him when he first arrived, Suho hadn't noticed the obvious; tall, lithe bodies adorned by chiseled faces lounging around, expensive fabrics clung to their muscular forms as they strolled with disguised arrogance.

"Are _you_ runway?"

"Do _I_ look like I could do runway?" Luhan chortled, and Suho realized the silliness of his question as Luhan's height popped into his mind. "Nah, Tao is, though."

It dawned on Suho that someone else was sitting to his other side when Luhan's eyes shifted in that general direction. Maybe he had been too engrossed in his conversation with Luhan, maybe his alertness was damped by the alcohol, or maybe he just didn't expect Tao to take a seat next to him.

_It happened unexpectedly. You happened unexpectedly._

Suho turned, and his eyes locked with an aloof gaze accentuated by underlying shadows that seemed darker amidst the ill-lighted hubbub. He felt his chest constrict, a lump hedged in his throat. Suho acknowledged Tao with a tentative nod before quickly turning back to Luhan, who was animatedly shouting across the table with a grin. Suho was alarmed when Luhan stood up and moved toward the person he was speaking to, leaving Suho transfixed in his seat at a loss.

Suho stiffened, Tao's presence becoming too large, caging him in. He was plagued with the dilemma of striking up a conversation with Tao when the model spoke.

"Chanyeol talks about you a lot."

Suho twisted his head as the words reached him. He looked at Tao, who lazily swirled the clear liquid in his glass, eyes trained on something in the distance.

"He does?"

His voice sounded like someone else's, its volume automatically raised a few notches, rendering the question awkwardly incredulous.

Tao nodded a few times. Suho was somehow relieved that Tao remained facing forward, because he was afraid that air would escape him again. Suho's nerves pricked him to take another gulp of his drink.

_Anoxia was the only thing I knew when you looked at me, depleting my supply of oxygen and rendering me breathless._

"So you're a runway model."

Tao slung one arm on the couch behind Suho as he leaned in, his face centimeters short of touching Suho's cheek.

"What was that?"

There was a minute shift forward that Suho wasn't aware of as he spoke into Tao's ears.

"I said, what's it like being a runway model?" Suho modified the question, as repeating seemed silly to his own ears.

"Ah," Tao chuckled as he leaned back slightly, his lips curving into a good-humored smile that immediately dissolved Suho's guard. "It's... interesting, I guess. Definitely not as glamorous as people make it out to be."

Tao went on to share the good, the bad, and the ugly of the modeling world, which was another universe to Suho, who asked questions that reflected genuine interest. The conversation carried on easily, uninterrupted by their legs making spaces for the people coming and leaving. Tao, Suho realized, was an adept conversationalist on par with Chanyeol. Perhaps it was the stark contrast between his sharp features when void of expressions and the boyish charm graced by an unpretentious smile.

Tao placed a hand on Suho's knee cap, once, twice, thrice. Suho didn't notice. Not until Tao began to draw small circles, fingertips tapping something suggestive into Suho's skin. The distance between their bodies allowed only stuffy heat that was nonetheless satisfying to Suho, his senses dulled by vodka and Tao's titillating scent.

_I should have moved away._

At some point during their conversation, which had changed from banalities like work to something less mundane but still managed to evade Suho's memory, Tao leaned in even closer, ears straining as Suho spoke. Suho's breath hitched as Tao's lips brushed past his earlobe as if in unintended passing.

Suho didn't realize he had been playing with fire all this time until he felt a hand slithering toward his inner thigh and his body betrayed him brutally, tilting him toward the touch instead of pulling him away from it. Suho bit his lower lip and he caught a glint in Tao's darkened eyes. Tao nibbled on Suho's earlobe as he palmed the older man's groin.

"I've been wanting to do this ever since I saw you," Tao murmured, his hot breath sending tingling sensation from Suho's ear to the pit of his stomach, churning his blood. Tao pulled back slightly before leaning in again and caught Suho's lips parched from carnal thirst. Unthinking, Suho kissed back, chewing Tao's lower lip. He tasted a blended sweetness of coke and Bailey from Tao's tongue.

"Maybe we should go somewhere private."

_I should have kept my mouth shut._

Everything happened too fast. Tao pulling Suho up and taking large strides across the dance floor to a less used restroom, shoving him into a stall before reclaiming Suho's flushed lips. Tao sank his teeth down on Suho's neck, worrying the heated flesh as he worked the older man's buckle. Suho became undone in all senses of the word when Tao wrapped long fingers around his cock, hardened and pulsating violently underneath the fervent touch. Tao pumped rapidly with expertise, his searing gaze pinning Suho's glazed eyes. Suho drew his lips inward and pressed them together to suppress moans that threatened to escape as Tao unceremoniously dropped to his knees and took Suho's cock into his wet mouth with no reservations, fingers scratching across the dips in Suho's pelvis, leaving territorial lines of red marks. He deepthroated Suho as he unbuckled his own pants and stroked himself so slowly, as if mocking the speed at which he was sucking, eliciting muffled moans from the older man.

Something overcame Suho and he hauled Tao up and pushed him down on the covered toilet seat with a thump. Tao widened his eyes in mild surprise, but that was quickly washed over by the smirk reaching his eyes as he peered upward at Suho running his tongue along his middle finger.

Tao gasped when Suho slides his finger in easily, the muscle in the ring clamping down as Suho's digit stayed inside, his thumb circling the rims with tantalizing patience. When Suho began thrusting his finger in and out, all Tao could do was stop himself from making obscene noises, muscles tensing and insides squirming, his hands trying to gain a hold on the cold tiles of the walls.

"Hyung..." Tao breathed, beads of sweat rolling down across his toned chest and pooling around his navel as he stared into Suho's hazed eyes. "Fuck me."

Suho obliged, body driven by something that wasn't his own as he hiked the younger man's legs beside his hips and plunged forward in one swift motion.

_You were my cocaine, drawing me in too easily and killing me too slowly._

Time and space warped into one distorted dalliance amid the entangling of limbs, smashing of kiss-swollen lips, scents of sex and sweat engulfing fragmented rationality, and Suho drowned, willingly, in the infinite sea of Tao's eyes.

It didn't take long for Suho to come, filling Tao to the rim as he grasped the younger man's stiff cock and pumped furiously, bring him to his own release. Drained, Tao sprawled across the toilet seat, his chest heaving and heartbeat raging in his ears as Suho pulled a roll of toilet paper and cleaned themselves up.

They exited the stall and was met with knowing glances as people passed them quietly. Suho unconsciously cleared his throat and wetted his cracked lips. He was in dire need of water. He stopped in front of the sink and scooped tap water with bowled hands. As he straightened, he watched Tao fixing himself up through the mirror with military efficiency, carding through ruffled hair with his fingers and dabbing off smudges around his eyes as if it was a familiar drill.

A void stretched between them as they came out of the restroom and returned to the table. Suho couldn't help but steal inquisitive glances at Tao, who wore the aloofness that had put Suho at bay when they first met, eyes trained forward as he took confident strides.

_Who are you and what have you done to me?_

"Hyung! Where have you been? I've been looking for you," Chanyeol punched Suho playfully in the shoulder, his laughs rambunctious and words slurred. Suho brandished some borderline-believable excuse as he looked past Chanyeol's shoulders. Someone had approached Tao and slung an arm across his shoulders, speaking with upturned lips into Tao's ears. Suho recognized him. Kris, another of Chanyeol's friends who was also apparently a runway model. Suho watched Tao break into a face-splitting grin, Kris's hand caressing Tao's nape.

Something lurked at the bottom of Suho's stomach, stirring. He suddenly felt nauseous.

_It was just a game, wasn't it?_

"Sorry, Chanyeol. I'm really tired, I think I'm going to get going."

Ignoring Chanyeol's pouted protest, Suho left him with a hasty "Happy birthday" and a hurried wave before shuffling toward the exit. He tossed Tao a glance as he passed, hoping to catch his eyes.

He didn't.

His heart roared against his ears louder than the pumping surround sound when he tore out of the club and scrambled into the first available taxi.

_Of course he was just fooling around. And I'm not a model like Kris. Why was I so naive?_

Suho watched the subsiding traffic out the window, eyes unfocused and unseeing. He dozed off eventually, a tear sneaking out of the corner of his eye, leaving a trace so faint it would leave no mark, as if it never happened.

_It was so easy for you, to pretend it never happened. Why couldn't it be easy for me, too?_

 

✡-✡-✡

The next morning, Suho wakes with a pounding headache, rightfully hung over from the night before. He picks up the clothes he had sloppily shed on the floor before staggering into bed. He sniffs the button-down shirt and his nose is instantly assaulted by whiffs of ethanol fused with something else.

_I hate that I smell like you._   



End file.
